


Or Else

by Spiderlily_Writes



Series: Edelys Sickfics [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Is that a thing, Loving Marriage, Sick Character, Stubborn Lysithea, Vaginal Fingering, sick sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderlily_Writes/pseuds/Spiderlily_Writes
Summary: Lysithea has a cold. Edelgard thinks she should stay in bed for the day and work through it. Lysithea disagrees. Both women are exceedingly stubborn, but Edelgard is a very creative problem-solver.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Lysithea von Ordelia
Series: Edelys Sickfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040393
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	Or Else

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This was a request from an anonymous follower. I'd like to make it clear that it ended up this long because I thought the prompt was SUPER cute, not all requests will be this long. I hope you enjoy!

Lysithea sneezes once more into her handkerchief and groans miserably. There are sneezes, and then there are sneezes that make her entire body feel hurt like she just lost a fistfight with Raphael. The sneezes today, unfortunately are the latter.

The worst part, though, isn’t being sick. Lysithea has spent plenty of time sick, either due to illness she caught from someone, or adverse effects from her Crests, and she knows how to work through it without too much trouble by now.

No, the worst part by  _ far _ is the way Edelgard is looking at her.

Her wife, the Emperor, is standing by their bed with her arms crossed and wearing both a lovely nightgown and an expression that seems to be caught somewhere halfway between irritation and concern. If Lysithea weren’t used to it by now, that would probably be intimidating, but she knows better. Edelgard isn’t actually mad at her, this is just how she shows she cares.

But, sometimes, Lysithea wishes she didn’t care quite so much. She returns Edelgard’s expression with a withering scowl of her own. The Emperor is unmoved.

“I’m fine,” Lysithea insists, stubbornly, but her stuffy nose muddles her words somewhat and betrays her. Edelgard cocks an eyebrow, seemingly skeptical. “I have things to do today.”

“Yes, I am inclined to agree,” Edelgard says, and she’s using her  _ Emperor voice _ again, making it clear she does not intend to argue. “You’re going to stay in bed, have some soup and tea, and I’ll bring you a book to read if you promise to behave yourself.”

Lysithea’s scowl intensifies. “I am  _ not _ a  _ child _ ! I do not need you to take care of me, Edelgard,” she snaps. “Now get out of my way so I can—” She’s interrupted by another sneeze that leaves her dazed, and she coughs a few times. There’s phlegm. It’s gross. She groans.

“Lysithea,” Edelgard begins, patiently. “I understand you are exceedingly determined to press forward despite your illness. That stubbornness is admirable, and it is something I love about you. But if you do not promise me that you’re going to stay in bed, I  _ swear _ on my name and office as  _ Emperor _ that I am going to clear my schedule, get back in bed, and hold you down myself.

After she finishes cleaning off her nose, Lysithea narrows her eyes at her wife, holding her gaze. “You’re bluffing. You have stuff to do today, too.”

Edelgard doesn’t look away. Her eyes narrow as well. “Nothing Hubert cannot handle if I am otherwise occupied.”

There’s a moment of tense silence. Lysithea glares. One corner of Edelgard’s mouth quirks up in a wry smile. She’s still pretty sure Edelgard is bluffing, and she knows that if her wife actually  _ does _ pin her down to the bed, she’s not going anywhere. Edelgard is damnably strong. But the idea of rolling over and obeying like that absolutely  _ galls _ her.

“Fine. Keep me here, then,” Lysithea says, petulance creeping into her voice. “You’ll get sick too.” Edelgard simply shrugs in response.

“I slept next to you. If I’m going to catch it, I already have, and a day in bed would do me some good as well,” the Emperor says, turning toward the door. Lysithea thinks, for a moment, that she’s about to leave. Instead, she raps twice on it with her fist. “Hubert!” she calls, and in what can’t be more than a second or two, the door snaps open a few inches. A sliver of Hubert’s face appears in the doorway. Lysithea, suddenly conscious of the fact that she is wearing nothing but her smallclothes under the blankets, grips the covers a little tighter. She’s never quite gotten used to Hubert’s ubiquity.

“Yes, Lady Edelgard?” he says, sparing a quick glance for Lysithea, who glares at him. “How may I assist you?”

“I would like you to handle my appointments today. Lysithea has fallen ill, and out of concern for you and those with whom I would meet, I am going to remain here in my rooms today, so that I do not inadvertently transmit that sickness as well,” Edelgard says, and Lysithea gapes. And then she sneezes again. She’s going to need a new handkerchief soon, she considers with a grimace, and the throbbing of her head makes a very good case for just laying back down on her pillow.

After all, if she’s going to be stuck here anyways, she might as well try to enjoy it, right?

Edelgard and Hubert trade a brief, terse conversation, after which Hubert nods once more, closes the door, and is gone. Lysithea groans as Edelgard turns back to face her, smirking infuriatingly.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” she complains, and Edelgard’s smirk gives way to a giggle. Despite Lysithea’s foul mood, the sight of Edelgard laughing always cheers her up. Even when she’s mad at her. Lysithea nearly smiles as well, but she replaces her scowl before it’s too late.

Edelgard sighs, pulling off her nightgown and walking back around to her side of the bed. “It actually is the responsible thing to do. I meant it when I told Hubert that it was out of concern for those with whom I would have contact today; I certainly don’t wish to spread your illness around.”

Lysithea watches Edelgard as she moves. She could make any number of excuses for why she does, but ultimately, the woman is pretty, and Lysithea enjoys the view as she’s left in only her own smallclothes, sans the nightgown. “But that’s not the only reason,” Lysithea insists.

As Edelgard slips under the covers next to her, she smiles again. “I also wasn’t bluffing, and I wanted to prove it. Now come here.”

She’s still mad, she reminds herself as Edelgard holds out an arm to welcome her into an embrace. She’s irritated with her wife, and downright grumpy in general, and the fact that she tucks herself up against Edelgard, her back to her wife’s front, and settles her head under the other woman’s chin doesn’t change anything.

“I’m still mad at you,” she confirms, but unfortunately, yet again, her congestion makes her words sound positively toothless.

“I will, somehow, survive,” Edelgard says, faux stricken. Lysithea’s breath catches as she feels Edelgard’s hands begin to wander. “Is there any way that I might be able to make it up to you, my dear, sweet wife?” There’s mischief in her voice. Lysithea harrumphs.

“You cannot be serious.”

“It seems a decent enough way to pass the time,” Edelgard muses in her ear, one hand slipping up to cup Lysithea’s breast and squeeze gently. “I’ll stop if you’d like me to, of course.”

Lysithea groans and closes her eyes as Edelgard grabs at her, but otherwise remains silent. She presses her hips back against her wife’s, and apparently that’s all the sign that Edelgard needs.

As Edelgard’s left hand draws slow, gentle circles around Lysithea’s chest, her other dips down, fingers trailing across the soft, yet too-warm skin of Lysithea’s stomach. Her fingers slide beneath the waist of Lysithea’s smallclothes, and she shivers as they ghost against the hair there, moving ever lower. “Edelgard,” she mumbles. “I’m sick. I don’t wanna get you sick, too.”

“I am not a child,” Edelgard teases, echoing Lysithea’s earlier words as her fingers slip between Lysithea’s legs and move gently across the rapidly-slickening folds there. “I can take care of myself. If you don’t want this because you’re not in the mood, that’s fine, but if you are trying to warn me off, don’t bother. Like I said, I’m probably sick anyways.”

She continues to tease at Lysithea’s entrance for a few moments more before curving two fingers inside her and making Lysithea cry out quietly. “Besides,” Edelgard adds. “I am not a chirurgeon, but I’m relatively certain that I won’t catch your illness by doing  _ this _ .”

The pad of her thumb flicks against Lysithea’s clit, and her quiet cries become just a bit louder. Edelgard thrusts her fingers in and out, finding a rhythm quickly, and beginning to wring more desperate cries out of Lysithea. Edelgard knows her well; she knows her body and what works and doesn’t, and she knows  _ exactly _ how to work her wife over most efficiently. It’s intoxicating, and it only takes her a couple of minutes to get Lysithea wriggling and squirming in her arms.

While the hand between her legs stays occupied, Edelgard continues to knead at Lysithea’s modest chest, drawing her nails across her, pinching her lightly, anything she can do to provoke a reaction. Any thoughts Lysithea had once had about holding a grudge are gone, and she’s clutching at her pillow with desperate fingers. “El,  _ please _ ,” she gasps, her already short breath made even shorter by her cold. “I’m so close, I’m—”

Edelgard slows to a near stop, and Lysithea whines in frustration and anguish, bucking her hips into her hand, but to no avail. The Emperor chuckles. “I’ll let you come if you promise to stay in bed today.”

“El, come  _ on _ , you can’t—” Lysithea begins, but Edelgard cuts her off with a well-timed wiggle of her fingers, which are still sunk into Lysithea. She gasps, and coughs a few short, staccato coughs. “You’re  _ horrible _ sometimes,” Lysithea croaks.

“Hmm. Perhaps. Now are you going to stay in bed, or aren’t you?” She sounds genuinely curious, and Lysithea’s irritation and arousal battle for dominance in her mind.

Arousal wins. It usually does. She grits her teeth.

“F-Fine. I’ll stay in bed, all day. I’ll let you bring me soup and tea and stay  _ right here _ , now  _ please _ —”

No sooner does she speak, than does Edelgard begin again, and Lysithea had already been so close that it takes barely a minute to bring her to that crest once more and push her clean over it.

Lysithea whimpers and closes her eyes as her body tenses and the waves of pleasure roll through her. It feels so nice,  _ blissful _ even, a pleasant distraction from the aches and congestion of her illness, and Edelgard coaxes her through it with finesse. She’s gasping, and sweating, and grinding down on Edelgard’s hand, and when she finally comes down from her high, she goes limp in her wife’s arms.

She realizes, dimly, that Edelgard is stroking her hair with the hand not currently pressed beneath Lysithea’s smallclothes. It feels nice. She hums, mind thick and sluggish in the afterglow.

“I’ll have someone bring us some tea, first,” Edelgard says, gently withdrawing her hand and getting a gasp from Lysithea for her efforts as she grazes across her on the way out. She pulls that hand back. “And maybe draw us a bath as well, so we can get you cleaned up.”

Lysithea’s head hits her pillow and she grumbles inaudibly and incoherently, but she doesn’t pull away from the hand in her hair.

She supposes, if she absolutely  _ must _ be stuck in bed, there are worse people to be stuck there with. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As usual, thanks a million to [tansybells](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells) for being the world's best beta reader. If you'd like to come snuggle in close to me, find me on twitter [@spiderlilywrite](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite)!


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